


don't care who's watching

by brodinsons (aeon_entwined)



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fingerfucking, M/M, Other, Threesome - M/M/M, Topping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/pseuds/brodinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filling a <b><a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=1762758#t1762758">prompt</a></b> on the kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't care who's watching

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand my first contribution to this delightful fandom? An RPF threesome. On New Year's Eve, no less. Happy 2013, all you crazy awesome bastards.

No one ever _means_ to get caught. There's the whole adrenaline rush of hiding in plain sight where the threat of imminent exposure is always present, but no one ever really tries to get caught like that.

At least, that's what they all like to say.

Dean rolls onto his back, fiddling lazily with the camera in his hands as he watches his co-star amble about his trailer. His clothes are shoved into a mussed pile at the foot of his bed, and at present, he's completely nude. Spending a billion hours in the make-up and costume trailers every day makes you appreciate your ability to shed layers tenfold.

"Take off your pants," he says after a few minutes of comfortable silence between them.

Aidan glances up from where he'd just gotten distracted by a few script pages on Dean's tiny kitchen table. "Say what?"

"Your pants, off," Dean jerks his chin in the general direction of Aidan's lower half, a smirk tugging at his lips as he lifts his camera.

"No," Aidan catches on without much effort, though the grin breaking across his lips gives him away completely. "No no no, you are _not_ getting pictures of my arse."

Far more interested in the pursuit than the end result, Dean abandons his camera on his nightstand and pushes himself off the bed, prowling across the span of the trailer so he can trap Aidan against the sink. 

Despite his lack of height in comparison to his prey, Dean makes up for it in bulk, keeping Aidan pinned to the edge of the counter with his weight. "I've taken pictures of ... _other stuff_ ," he makes sure to work a pout into his tone, grinning wider as Aidan shivers briefly. "Why won't you let me?"

Aidan heaves a put upon sigh that ruffles the soft hair above Dean's brow. "Because you're going to blackmail me with it later when I'm drunk and Sir Ian asks to see your camera," he giggles, pushing his nose into the auburn waves above Dean's ear.

"I will not!" Dean acts positively scandalized at the very thought, though he quickly finds himself succumbing to the giggles as well, both arms going around Aidan's waist rather than pinning him to the sink.

Then, Aidan's bowing his head and there's suddenly a pair of lips suctioning onto the pulse point just below his jaw, eliciting a low groan of approval. Dean presses his fingertips along the ridged line of Aidan's spine, pulling him closer.

“Kept thinking about doing this last night,” Aidan murmurs against his throat, broad hands splaying firmly against Dean’s hips. “Fucking cold out there and I just wanted to be back here.”

“Me too,” Dean exhales slowly, moving his hands to curl practiced fingers over the elastic waistband of Aidan’s pants, then carefully ease the fabric down.

Aidan hisses as his cock slips free of the restraining fabric, then hits the cool air of the trailer’s interior. Dean immediately presses himself flush against Aidan’s front, slotting their hips neatly together as they work at getting their legs to line up properly.

They both groan as their cocks slide together, sensitive skin catching and dragging enough to spark bursts of sensation through their abdomens.

Dean hitches his leg a little higher on Aidan’s hip, searching out any sort of leverage he can get as Aidan’s hands mold to the curve of his ass, squeezing and kneading to get him closer. Dean laughs breathlessly, then catches the lobe of Aidan’s ear between his teeth, managing to suckle it as they thrust haphazardly against each other, the heat and friction building every second.

Without warning, the door to Dean’s trailer swings open, flooding the entire space with near-frigid air.

Both men startle, arms going around each other as Aidan yelps and nearly ends up ass-first on the floor before Dean manages to steady him.

“I wanted to ask-“ a terrifyingly familiar baritone precedes its owner into the trailer and they both freeze in utter mortification, shame heating both their cheeks as Richard steps inside, only to pause with one boot on the mat and the other on the top step, expression faltering before settling on blank shock.

“… hey,” Dean offers weakly, glancing over his shoulder at their elder co-star (the fact that he plays their uncle really makes this about ten times more awkward, like getting caught masturbating by your parents for the first time). “You mind closing the door?”

Richard apparently takes the initiative and steps inside before doing so, avoiding any awkward questions by people outside if he'd stumbled backward in a hasty retreat, though he doesn’t make any move to approach or edge away.

“I … sorry,” he mutters, averting his gaze from the naked pair in the kitchenette and focusing on the rumpled mess of Dean’s bed instead. “Should’ve knocked. My fault. I’m … just going to leave, yeah?”

Richard jerks a thumb at the closed door behind him, but before he can turn, Aidan surprises everyone.

“Wait.”

Dean blinks, then turns back to observe Aidan’s face, watching an interesting kaleidoscope of emotions play out across the strong features. The long throat works in a painful swallow, but Dean doesn’t interrupt. Just lets Aidan say his piece.

Richard still hasn’t moved, seemingly on the knife-edge of the fight or flight reaction. He’s waiting. 

“You could stay,” Aidan speaks up again, winding the tension that settled into the space the first time just that much tighter.

There’s silence between the three of them again, like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It never does.

Instead, Dean is viscerally aware of a broad line of heat down his back that wasn’t there a minute ago, pressing close and intimate in all the ways he wasn’t expecting. He inhales slowly, sliding his gaze to Aidan’s, holding the dark eyes until they flutter shut of their own accord. 

A hand that doesn’t belong to him or Aidan settles on his hip, and Dean realizes that yes, they are actually doing this, and yes, he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life.

“ _Richard_ ,” the name is whispered almost too quietly to hear, but Dean turns just quick enough to see Aidan melting into what looks like a searingly hot kiss. A heated bolt of jealousy coils in his gut, but Dean manages to push it aside in favor of watching Richard tongue-fuck Aidan into utter submission over his own shoulder.

Aidan is mewling and clutching at his bare shoulders, apparently incapable of deciding what he wants to do with his hands but Dean feels inexplicably glad they’re still on him, even if just for a minute more.

“Bed,” Richard growls behind him, naturally deep baritone dropping several more octaves. “Both of you, now.”

Dean scrambles to obey before he really comprehends what’s going on, but Aidan nearly trips over the pants on the floor on the way to the bed so Dean focuses on getting the both of them to their destination without any unplanned injuries along the way.

Richard is stalking across the trailer after them, blue eyes gone steely and dark as he rakes his gaze over their naked forms. Dean feels a bit like a slab of meat thrown in front of a big cat, and a glance at Aidan tells him that they’re in the same boat, for now at least.

Aidan makes a quietly strangled noise as Richard strips to his pants, revealing all the powerful musculature that their billion dwarven layers keep properly hidden when the cameras are rolling. Dean wants to say he’s jealous, jealous of the way Aidan reacts to this interloper, but Richard’s not just looking at Aidan.

He’s looking at both of them, and it’s clear he can’t decide how to give them their equal share.

Dean gives a slight nod towards Aidan, and after a moment of silent eye contact, Richard nods in turn.

Richard bends a knee, placing it on the edge of the too-small mattress as he lowers himself onto it, effectively blanketing Aidan’s body with his own. Aidan makes quiet noises of surprise as Richard’s full beard scratches and rubs over his throat, marking the softer skin.

Dean immediately reaches over, catching the fingers twitching on the sheets and squeezing them tightly. Aidan squeezes back, then moans loudly as Richard begins sucking a claiming mark over his clavicle.

A low rumble of sound is the only reply from Richard, and Dean shivers, unaccountably turned on by the sheer gravel quality of Richard’s voice whether he’s speaking intelligible words or not.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this,” he mutters, half to himself.

There’s movement next to him and Aidan’s looking at him, dark eyes wide and almost frantic. He doesn’t say anything, just pants shallowly as Richard keeps working down his body, sucking biting marks into soft bits of muscle and flesh.

As if drawn by a physical force, Dean shifts onto his elbow, pushing himself closer to he can fit his lips over Aidan’s, effectively silencing the sporadic whimpers.

He cups a hand against Aidan’s nape, supporting him easily while Aidan’s arms wind around his shoulders, clutching desperately. The jealousy that had coiled hot in his gut at Richard’s arrival dissipates somewhat, to be replaced with something like reverence.

Aidan jerks against him and one glance downward tells him that Richard found the tube sitting on the nightstand and is currently doing his best to fuck Aidan into next Tuesday with his fingers.

Dean just watches for a minute, fascinated by the way those ridiculously long fingers curl and curve to wring every last sound out of Aidan in his headlong drive to help Aidan find his release.

“Kiss him,” comes the sex-rough baritone from between Aidan’s thighs. “He wants you.”

Helpless to disobey an order like that, Dean turns back to Aidan, his heart twisting as he watches Aidan’s regal features crumple in the face of pleasure-pain bursting through his nerves.

He kisses Aidan like the man might shatter apart at any moment, deep searching kisses that remind Aidan that he’s not going anywhere.

_I’m here. I’m always here. I’m yours._

With a shudder that nearly unseats him, Aidan sobs breathlessly against his mouth and comes with Dean’s name on his lips.

Richard is already crawling up from his perch on the floor, expression concentrated and intense in a way Dean wasn’t expecting in this.

He watches Richard splay himself comfortably atop the mattress, then settle that heated gaze on him. Silence reigns for close to a minute, though Dean finds himself shifting between Richard’s legs without much effort. He closes a hand round the proud cock pressed flat to Richard’s abdomen, his warm-rough palm eliciting a low hiss.

As he lowers his head to wrap his lips around the tip of Richard’s cock, he can feel Aidan’s eyes on him.

Dean doesn’t stop, though he does spread his legs slightly, exhaling sharply in relief as the sudden warmth of Aidan presses against his back, two clever hands sliding down his front in search of his own aching cock.

He grunts as Aidan fists him, but despite the lovely friction provided between two palms, Dean focuses on wrapping lips and tongue around Richard’s cock, working his jaw to better accommodate the man’s size.

A large hand tangles in his hair, holding it just tight enough to skirt the borderline between pain and pleasure. He loves it. He’s always loved it.

While Aidan works his cock with firm tugs and pulls, Dean tries to avoid using his hands as much as possible. Instead focusing on laving Richard’s cock with his lips, tongue, and a faint scrape of teeth when he feels he can get away with it.

Still, he’s no match for Aidan’s clever fingers.

With a corkscrew squeeze of the head of his cock, Dean nearly chokes himself as his orgasm broadsides him, leaving his entire body twitching and shivering in the aftermath.

Richard’s fingers slide through his hair, patient and soothing until he manages to get his breath back.

He hollows his cheeks experimentally, then startles when the sudden taste of bitter semen floods his mouth. Above him, Richard curses roughly, hips pistoning up shallowly as he rides out the aftershocks.

Excess semen dribbles onto his chin as Dean pulls off, and he does his best to spit discreetly into a nearby towel. 

Exhausted, the trio collapses onto the bed, limbs tangling as they all try to grab a piece of one another.

“You know,” Dean mumbles, cheek pillowed on the flat plane of Richard’s abdomen while Aidan curls against his side, long arms wrapped around his waist. “I never even imagined this. Not once. Now I think I’m not going to be able to let it go.”

Richard laughs, the sound vibrating through Dean’s cheek in the best way. “I’d apologize for having walked in on the two of you, but for some reason, I don’t think either of you are complaining.”

Aidan makes a general noise of agreement somewhere in the vicinity of his hip, and Dean can’t help but laugh softly in response.

A motley crew they may be, but they’re _his_.


End file.
